Break
by Temp-Err
Summary: Lucien had never been a stable man, and after the loss of his Spire, he found himself falling further into the pitt of depression and insainty. As he stumbles through a world that now deems him unworthy, he finds support in an odd all too familiare place.
1. Chapter One Fallen

**Authors Note:** Sadly I do not own Fable, but I wish I did.

This is really my first attempt at writing and intending to publish a fan fiction, I intend to do my best proof reading it though somehow one spelling or grammar mistake always slips through the cracks.

This story is going to be Lucien centric though in the later chapters I will be bringing in other characters, so far I intend for Garth to make an appearance and Reaver to also grace us with his sexy self. Hammer may come in for a short while but Sparrow I am going to try and keep out since we all had different heroes in the game. When I do mention Sparrow I will keep things vague so it's easier to assume they are our versions of the heroes.

Now I'm going to stop wasting time on this authors note and actually let you start reading. - Temp

* * *

**Chapter One: Fallen**

_"I don't want to live, _

_To waste another day, _

_Underneath the shadow of mistakes I made. _

_Cause I feel like I'm breaking inside I don't want to fall and say I lost it all. _

_'Cause baby there's a part of me to hit the wall, _

_Leaving pieces of me behind, _

_And I feel like I'm breaking inside."_

**_Breaking Inside by Shinedown._**

* * *

Pain.

That was the first thing he registered when his mind slowly crept back into his body. It wasn't an intense pain, no, that had gone the second Sparrow removed the large sword from his chest and allowed him to merciless topple backwards off the spire. It was more of a subtle pain, a throbbing through out his body, blinding and incapacitating him. He couldn't think and found it impossible to keep his mind on track, he was fading and he knew it, pieces slowly being chipped away, his being being ripped from this earth like an injured baby bird from it's nest, bird, Sparrow. That name made his blood boil.

Pain, there it was again, shooting through his chest, burning.

_Surely death wasn't supposed to feel like this?_

It took every ounce of strength left in Lucien's body to move his left hand, and while the agony had returned the satisfaction of such an accomplishment granted back a little of the power he had lost. He was dyeing, but still alive at least, still holding on. He wondered how long he'd been laying there, on whatever hard surface he'd landed on, hours, days, minutes didn't seem right but then the world had always found ways to baffle him. _Yes, there it was again_, he winced and for a second thought he managed to make a noise as he moved his right hand, dragging it backwards and curling it under his broken body. The second he tried to lift himself his body screamed out and fell back down, refusing to allow Lucien to rise.

Damn it, damn it all, damn Sparrow, damn that hooded woman, damn those Heroes, damn Albion.

He wasn't going to die here, he wouldn't allow himself to, he still had something left, he could feel it, inside his body, a spark of will hidden somewhere, and a spark was all he needed to get up and out of here. Breathing in deeply Lucien drew back his left hand to join it's counter part, still tucked under his chest, with a heave and no doubt a few curse words Lucien managed to lift himself upwards onto his knees, and red was the first thing he saw. Red blood pooled out in front of him, and there was a lot of it.

Now on his knees and supported albeit waving a little, he brought a hand up and touched his chest. iFuck./i He let the limb drop from the rather thinly lined hole in his lower chest, he rubbed the smudges of blood between his finger tips, watching carefully as it spread out, trickling down his knuckles and between the cracks of his palms. That sword had certainly done a little more damage than he expected, but then that blasted Sparrow hard basically shoved the metal objective straight through him in rage, impaling him without a second thought and cutting off whatever he had been saying a few seconds before.

He looked up, wincing his eyes to try and see a little further beyond the foggy blackness above, the Spire had never been a bright place but right now he was kind of wishing there was some sort of light apart of the small rays of moonlight that crept through the small cracked windows. Lucien couldn't tell how far he'd fallen but in that moment he decided it really didn't matter, what mattered was getting out of the Spire, somehow.

* * *

When first considering the construction of the tower Lucien had noted the brilliance of the placement of such a wonder, so far into the ocean that while visible from land it took a good couple five hour boat ride to get there, and with an army of guards eyes constantly stitched to the oceans horizons a surprise attack was pretty much impossible. But now, half dead and bleeding, Lucien damned the fact they were so far away from civilisation, he contemplated swimming but quickly drop kicked that idea out the window blaming such a daft thought on the severe head wound he had suffered from the fall. There might possibly still be some boats docked, and whatever shape they were in he was sure he would be able to fix it up enough to get him to land.

After stumbling down steps for a good half an hour Lucien began to doubt there was actually an end to this Spire. During his control of it he'd often venture through the current construction sights and check everything was in order, but after years of the Spire becoming taller and taller he never saw the point in delving further down to the completed decks, he saw no need, that was his Commandants job. _Ah the commandant_. What a perfect soldier he had been, loyalty driven into him so far it was all he saw, truly marvellous, if only others would bend such ways instead of being so fruitfully stubborn and rebellious. Ignorance was like a plague nowadays. His thoughts were cut short as his hand, placed on the wall for support, ran over a small stone window that looked out onto the Spire docks. Lucien quickly scanned the area with a certain twinkle of hope, but his hopes were crushed as all he saw was water lapping gently against the wood harbour. Not even one boat, not even one, if he had been in a better mood he would have laughed at the irony of being stuck in his Spire considering he hadn't wished to leave it for the passed 20 years.

There must be another way, if that annoyance of a Hero had taught him anything it was that there is always a solution, and the more pressure to succeed the more likely you are to figure it out. Lucien allowed himself to rock backwards and sit on the cold stone step of the staircase, he then shuffled slowly towards the opposing wall and leant against it. A sense of relief swept over him as he felt somewhat comfortable for the first time, now if only he has installed heating, because he could swear it was getting colder by the second. His body shivered automatically as a shrill breeze blew in from the windows and gateway, he hugged his now tattered and blood stained coat tightly, something he instantly regretted when he felt his rib suddenly decide it was time to crack back into place. But what Lucien was even more sickened by was the feeling of the torn layers of the skin on his chest pressing back together, it reminded him of when you got a paper cut on your finger and felt the broken opposing bits of the skin rub together whenever you moved it. Of course it was to a slightly bigger magnitude, so much so that when he relaxed and the skin broke apart he couldn't stop himself muttering a low _'fuck'_. He'd never been one for swearing, but sometimes the good old sailor talk really did make you feel better if only for a second.

Lucien sat there for a few more moments before he registered his eyes were closed, and as hard as he tried to open them he just couldn't. The weight on his shoulders increased and he felt like his head might fall off if he didn't lean more into the wall and rest that on it as well. He couldn't fall asleep, he'd die, but the sweet desire soon took over him and he felt himself drifting into one of those off sort of sleeps where you still posses a certain level of awareness. He suddenly felt warmer, and he could her a low murmur that echoed all around, whatever it was it was getting louder. After another few seconds he could hear it clearly, was that music. Yes he could most certainly hear music, and not just any old song it was a soft delicate tune that was familiar to him, it sounded like a music box. He stood up so fast his eyes had to blink a couple of times to catch up with the body being upright. He took a step forwards in a slow motion and wobbled so hard he nearly fell back over, the next few steps were easier and the next after that were effortless. One foot after the next and then the next foot after that, Lucien found himself walking in a rather brisk manner, worryingly pain free.

_Am I dead?_The notion that he might be dead cut like a knife to the back of the neck sending a chill over his entire body. No, he couldn't be dead, though his vision was foggy he was still in the Spire, still in the same spot he had been when he'd taken his little nap. But the wall in front had changed, mainly in the way it there wasn't a wall there any more, it had been replaced by a hallway. He continued walking forwards, eyes getting wider as the music became louder, a wave of desperation took over him and he broke out into a slow jog. iLouder, and louder still/i. He flung his arms out roughly when he saw the old oak door come into sight, before he knew it he had clamped a hand down on the cold metal of the handle and retched it open. The music became deafeningly loud making the man slam his hands over his ears in a pitiful attempt to suppress it, but still he persisted forwards into the room. Light burnt for all around, pure and yet blinding at the same time. Lucien fell forwards onto his knees, his left hand catching onto something and softening the fall, he managed to raise his head, but wished he hadn't.

_That music box?_

Lucien gritted his teeth in anger. It was that music box that had not only stripped him of his will magic, but also his Spire and nearly his life. But yet here it was in front of him, taunting him once again. He tried to pull it down from it's invisible pedestal but it refused to budge. His rage allowed him to stand back up and clutch it with both hands, the box was blearing out that repetitive tune over and over again, the clog inside visibly turning. Another tug was proven to be unsuccessful and did nothing but hurt Lucien's hands. He wanted to break it, no he wanted to smash it into pieces and completely remove it from existence. Everything had gone wrong because of this old kingdom artefact. Because of this small unassuming box.

Lucien tried to pull at it again, he held on pulling this time digging his heels into the floor, mustering as much force as he could, but still the music box didn't waver, heck even that mocking tune didn't jump as he whacked the box hard enough to split his knuckles.

Realisation is a bitch, and often hits you at the worst moments, a lesson Lucien all to early on in life, a lesson that now came haunting back to him.

It was useless, he'd done everything possible and it was all for nothing, twenty years of his life wasted building this Spire and now here he was going to die in it. The ground was welcoming, as for no doubt the hundredth time this day Lucien found himself collapsing onto it, his arms bent upwards awkwardly holding onto the box, he just couldn't bring himself to let go.

_"Let go Lucien"._ A voice whispered in his head.

_"Just let go, make your wish and let go."_

It was horrible at first, the foreign salty tears that now trickled down his cheeks. It made him furious. Crying, now of all things, how pathetic. But still they came, rolling from his eyes like they would never stop. The man sobbed loudly, his heart twisting and churning inside his body as if it might threaten to fall out through his ripped out ribcage that moment.

"I wish...". The words grated his throat as they came out but then stopped as if suddenly scared to leave his mouth. The music got louder and the box began to glow a bright red.

"I wish I-". Lucien finished the sentence, the worlds burst free and took to the air, and thought their sound was churned away by the music made by the contraption he held before him their meaning was heard loud and clear. His hands fell from the box as is began to spin erratically, and then with a pop it was gone.

Gone along with the floor as well it seemed since in the next instance Lucien was free falling downwards at an alarmingly increasing rate. His body spun out of control, fingers gripping out at his sides trying to grab a hold to anything, but there was nothing there. He hit what could only be described as a large wave of air. It stopped his falling gradually until his was floating.

"Huh"? Lucien opened his eyes for the first time since the wall had vanished, as soon as his eyes saw a glimpse of light he fell once more and for a finale time. This fall lasted about five second before his body smacked something very hard, and now very broken, and then rolled out of control sending him slamming onto his back. iOh my god/i. Pretty much summed up the feeling at the time, he felt the need to be sick and possibly the need for a very strong glass of vodka.

Lucien allowed himself a few moments to gather his thought before e let his hands roam a little. He found himself surprised when a soft stringiness graced the tops of his fingers and trickled his palms. Grass?

That alone gave him the power to open his eyes and become aware of his surroundings, the clear blue sky and fluffy white clouds that greeted him had never looked so good, and was possibly a sure sign he had lost his mind completely.

Lucien moaned in pain when he tried to move, the feeling of his wounds now crawling back to him, and with friends no less. He now had a stinking headache and to add insult to injury he was pretty sure his lovely coat was so beyond repair it slide off his thin frame with the slightest of movements.

"Daddy, Daddy I swear you have to believe me". A high-pitched voice was not exactly what he wanted but at least it meant he landed in a occupied area. Sitting up to see the source of the voice would have helped matters, but right now laying down in the grass seemed like a much more pleasant option.

"Okay honey I told you I believe you, now where did this old man land"? A stronger male voice now it seemed, her father no doubt.

"Over there, he fell from that tree I think, hit the roof and landed on that hill, look, you can see him". The child was practically screaming now and no doubt pointing dramatically to compliment such a tone, dragging her father behind him like he had nothing better to do than amuse his little girl.

"Yes I can see him". The man's voice was sarcastic, but of course a child wouldn't pick up on such a feat. "Is he another one of your friends Li - holy shit there really is someone over there". The change in tone was humorous, going from sarcasm to utter disbelief in the same sentence had to be an achievement.

"Holy shit Daddy I told you". The little girls voice mimicked out in a happy tone, Lucien snickered, kids said the darnedest things.

"Don't swear honey, hey, hey are you all right mate"? If the closeness of the voice wasn't a give away that the man was now right next to him the act of grabbing him by the shoulders and shacking him certainly did.

"Fuck sorry mate", was his reply to the very pissed of groan his heroic deed had earned.

"Lizzie, run into the house and tell Mummy we've found a hurt person and are going to need her help". He tried to make his words as understandable for the little bounding blonde haired girl as possible. He assumed it did the trick as he watched the back of her head disappear out of sight, charging down the grassy hill with no doubt excitement in her eyes.

"Shit man you're a wreck, what on earth happened to you, bandits"? Lucien allowed his vision to rest on the man, he gave him a look that suggested the question better have been rhetorical.

"Was that a yes, gees you're lucky to be alive this wound is about as deep as they come, seeing as it goes straight through you". The man laughed out, giving Lucien the tale-tale signs he was in the presence of a rocket scientist who's other genius abilities involved pointing out the bleeding obvious. Lucien rather wanted to throttle him right now but his mind was quickly subdued, the next few sentences were beyond him as he once again felt the sweet sensation of sleep flooding over him, drowning out almost all of the conversation. He caught the words 'wife', 'nurse', and then 'bed'.

Bed sounded like a pretty fitting word right now and if Lucien died in his sleep he would be glad such a thing was the last thing he heard.

* * *

Well that's the first chapter over, people should really warn you how difficult the first chapter is especially if there is no communication between characters. The first half almost killed me being mainly descriptive. Not repeating words has got to be an art form, one I sadly lack. Reviews are loved, loved some much they make little rainbows in my eyes when I read them. I am open to constructive criticism, this is not only my first fan fiction but almost my first story that isn't a paragraph long. Once again if you see any mistakes please tell me. Once I get going I tend to type like crazy and make silly mistakes, mistakes I then have the magical ability to over look even after reading it ten times. XD

Also I am open to suggestions as what should happen, what do you people want to happen. What couples would you like to see, situations. Oh an I couldn't resist have Lucien hit the roof on the final fall. I always felt It rather symbolic that after he was stabbed/shot/zapped Lucien toppled backwards off that podium thing, considering when he first shoots Sparrow he shoots you out a window. So I added him hitting the roof like Sparrow did on his/her first fall. Just me being weird. Haaaaa~

**I'll start on the second chapter as soon as possible, reviews will of course fuel me. LOVE AND PEAS PEOPLE – Tempi X**


	2. Chapter Two Up

**Authors Note: **I got a sudden hit of inspiration and finished the second chapter today, as always I don't own Fable 2, if I did Reaver would be everywhere and Lucien would be king of everything.

**ENJOY - TempX**

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**Chapter Two: Up**

Farmer Don was a simple man whose simplicity spanned for an average childhood to an average adulthood; it was obvious in every aspect of the man. His appearance was nothing to comment on, standing at an normal height with brown hair and eyes the colour of used bath water he would hardly stand out in a crowd. He and his wife had lived in Rivernt, a small isolated little farm village on the far outskirts of Bowerstone, for the entire of their 10 year long marriage. On the 3rd year of their marriage they were blessed with their darling daughter Lizzie who quickly became the centre of their small but comfortable world. Living in such a secluded area visitors were scarce and those that did come were only passers-by looking for a bed to rest and wait the night out. They had even been spared from the problems caused throughout Lucien's tyrannical hold on Albion and thus were not well educated in exactly what had occurred. Occasionally word would catch the wind and drift through Rivernt, words of a Spire, kidnappings, and the most common was word of a Hero who later sought to stop Lucien and put an end to the madness.

But Don was an easy going man and didn't put a lot of interest into such matters, he simply wished to wake up at sunrise and work till the late evening, then come home to the smell of dinner being cooked by his loving wife and feel the warm welcome home hug from his little spider-Lizzie. Which was why when his little girl found the injured man, who appeared seemingly from nowhere, he was a little unsure he didn't dream the entire thing.  
The presence of the man himself was odd, he thought as he sat down by his bedside, a cup of scolding warm tea clutched in his rough hands, burning his fingertips enough to force him to rearrange the hold of it every now and then. He didn't look as old as when he had first laid eyes on him, his hair was white as opposed to grey, almost like the colour itself had been removed, his skin was drained and aged, pasty and creased like it hadn't seen the sun in hundreds of years. And his frame, tall and thin, looked like it would break if it caught a strong gust of wind. Yes, on second glance this man couldn't even have been in his 50's.

Don took a small sip from his tea to test the temperature, he clucked his tongue and swallowed hard when the hot liquid burnt the inside of his mouth, but at least it kept him awake. A quick glance at the clock told him they were well into the early hours of the morning. Lizzie had been put to bed hours ago and his wife, Diane, had taken to their bed after tending to the strangers wounds as much as she could. Diane had requests Don stay awake and keep an eye on their injured guest, she had justified such a appeal by the desire to make sure his wounds didn't open during the night and bleed out, however he knew that look in her eyes, she was uneasy with him being in the house.

A mumbling from the bed caught Don's attention, he watched as the stranger rolled his head to the side, his chest heaving up in pain like he was struggling for breath. His pale hands gripped the covers of the bed and in the light of a nearby lamp small beads of sweat could be seen forming on his forehead and trickling down into his hairline.

"A fever"? Why he had spoken out loud Don didn't know, he raised a hand forwards and placed it gently on Lucien's face, touching his forehead, cheeks and then finally the back of his neck. He defiantly had a temperature, what did that mean again? Don wasn't a doctor, his wife was the one with medical knowledge, should he wake her up?

"Daddy"? A small voice broke the silence; the farmer leant his head back and stared at the doorway where Lizzie stood, half hidden by the frame. Her big blue eyes were filled with worry, she clutched her blanket tightly, occasionally fingering and picking at the edges.

"What is it Lizzie"? Don winced at the horse way in which his words came out, he coughed to try and ease up his next sentence.

"You should be in bed, come on go back, you'll be grouchy in the morning". The little girl puffed her cheeks out, little face going red in defiance. She strode forwards, trying not to fall over as the blanket bunched up around her feet. When she got to her father he hoisted her up onto his lap, wrapping the blanket around her to make a cocoon.

"I was worried for him Daddy, I had bad dreams". The small girl crawled off of Don's lap and onto the bed Lucien slept in, she crouched herself on the end of it, knowing better than to get any closer just in case she hurt him.

"Bad dreams, you know they say if you tell someone your bad dreams they never happen".The chair creaked as he dragged it a little closer, the legs rubbing against the floor. He clamped a hand in Lizzie's hair and ruffled the blonde mass even more, making it messy. He chuckled as she quickly pulled away and began to try and flatten in back down. As soon as she was happy she took a deep breath, ready to explain her nightmare.

"I was standing in this room with no lights, and I could hear people talking". She paused to reposition herself, crossing her legs; she took a hold of some of her blonde hair and began to plate it idly.

"There were these three people, a really big woman, a man who glowed and some guy with a fancy coat, they were wriggling on the floor, I think they were hurt". Another pause so Lizzie could change places once again and move to lean back on the wooden wall the bed was against.

"Then out of the darkness this person walked forwards, I couldn't see their face but I knew they were scary, and strong, they stood in front of Roof-Man". Don took a second to figure out who she was referring to, his eyes now on the bedridden man. Lizzie did have a penchant for giving people nicknames and sticking to them even after learning their real names.

"He was sad about something, and started talking to the scary person, but they must have not been friends because the scary person took out their sword and stabbed him so hard he fell backwards and into the darkness". Don could hear the uneasiness in Lizzie's voice; he took another sip of his tea and placed it on the dresser table. He scooped up his little girl and hugged her tightly.

"Don't worry Spider-Lizzie, it was only dream, Roof-Man is still here and look, he's getting better". He gestured to Lucien, Lizzie smiled brightly and nodded, reaching out and patting his hand a little.

"Do you think he'll be awake tomorrow, I want to show him my secret hide out and introduce him to Trucy". She giggled and slid off her Dad's lap again, grabbing her blanket as she went.

"Oh I'm sure he will; Mummy will get up early and make him all better". Don patted her on the back to send her on her way, he wrinkled his nose however. Lizzie had never allowed anyone to know where her secret hideout was, and Trucy, her stuffed Balverine, apparently never spoke to anyone but her. He felt a twinge of jealously at the obvious attachment she had formed to the man into the bed next to him.

Don listened to her footsteps pad on the floor, walking down the hall and back into her room, the sound of the springs on the bed reassured him she was going back to sleep. He waited a minute or to, just to check she didn't sneak back out. _Silence again._ He took the finale sip of his tea, it was an unpleasant sort of lukewarm now. _How depressing._

* * *

He managed to wait out the rest of the night, just about awake as the sun began to rise. He shifted in his chair trying to crack his back and neck, the two now aching from being in a fixed position for too long. A stretch showed to be the perfect cure, he stood up, palms to the ceiling, letting out a satisfied groan. He then doubled over in shock and pain as someone prodded him sharply in the side. He swung around to see the face of his amused wife, snickering at catching him off guard.

"Sorry, I just couldn't resist". Her light brown hair fell across her face before she quickly tucked it back and tied it up in a high ponytail. Don grabbed her lightly and brought her towards him, hugging her tenderly, fingers running through her silk hair. He sighed in heavily and gave her a quick squeeze before pulling away.

"You off to bed now, I can take over from here"? Diane picked up the empty mug, shaking it a little and sloshing the left over contents inside.

"Yeah I think I should, get a few hours before I head off to Bowerstone Market". Don kissed his wife gently on the head before walking out the door.

Diane waited till he was gone before she headed into the kitchen and dumped the empty cup in the sink. She breathed in lightly trying to gather her thoughts that for the most part centred around the their current guest. She just couldn't place it but something about him made her uneasy. She'd always been a perceptive one, even as a child, to her people just gave off an aura and you could tell friend from foe, those to trust and those not to, but him with him it was as if there was a mixture of everything. After tapping her nails on the draining board for a good ten seconds she spun on her heels and walked back into the guest room, grabbing the first aid box off the dresser and dumping it on the bedside table. She removed the lid and got out a few items, one by one she placed down some gauze, fresh bandages, anti-septic cream, and some small cotton clothes to clean the wound. She couldn't help but laugh at such a pathetic excuse of items to deal with the man's wound, but there was little more she could do given their circumstances.

"Okay Sir I'm just going to undo your bandages and have a look". Diane spoke as if he were awake, a tender smile as she patted his shoulder, maybe hoping he was conscious enough to divulge her growing curiosity as to who he was an how he came to be in such a state. But alas Lucien remained silent and gave no cry of protest when she began to peel back the now sticky white bandages, her face grew grim as layer by layer she saw the extent to which he had bleed out during the night. How he was still alive she didn't know but she knew better than to question such luck and drive to stay apart of this world. Diane began to hum a little ditty tune in an attempt to sooth her own nauseous feelings, living on a farm she had seen her fair share of injuries, she recalled last Summer when Don had managed to embed and axe in his foot while chopping fire wood, or when her daughter fell while climbing trees and broke her arm. Living with such troublesome family members had hardened her up but not enough to fully cope with seeing someone's ribs exposed. Her heart skipped a beat as she pulled back the large gauze, she needed to blink a few more times to register what she was seeing.

"My word". Was all she could muster out, the gaping wound from yesterday has healed beyond what one would expect. Prodding her middle finger into the wound only furthered her disbelief when her nail hit healed ribcage. Without thinking she rolled Lucien over roughly to check his back, it was the same story, anyone would assume the man was sliced by a sword twice instead of being impaled.

"Who are you"? Her curiosity had peaked to the point of fear, she may not have been a doctor but healing so quickly in one day was something anyone would see as out of the ordinary. Diane grabbed the anti-septic and began to clean the two wound gently, even the bleeding has stopped a fair bit now, only occasionally oozing when she caught a sensitive part. She then grabbed the finale bits of gauze and pressed them down, it took a bit longer to wrap the bandage since she did have to keep lifting his back a little to get the white ribbon all the way around, after about ten minutes she curled the end under and fastened it with a safety pin. The ending product was a little rough around the edges but she was pleased none the less.

"Right breakfast for Lizzie". Diane clapped her hands together and got up marching out the room, she closed the door behind her out of habit and headed into the kitchen. After opening a few cupboards she decided bacon and egg was in order, it was a Sunday after all and their hens had laid eggs yesterday morning. She got out a frying pan, splashed in some oil and began to fry absent mindedly, adding the bacon first and then the eggs, turning them every so often.

* * *

The sound of the frying blocked out the little footsteps coming from the hallway as Lizzie crept from her room and into Lucien's, a mischievous cat like grin on her face since she knew she would be in trouble if she got caught. After closing the door gently and slowly to avoid making noise the little girl turned her attention to the bed, mincing her creep like walk she tip toed across the floor boards and leant up on the bed to get a good look at her new friend.

"Roof-Man". Her voice was a low whisper, she glanced back at the door to make sure her mum hadn't heard her.

"Roof-Man". She said a little louder than the first time, eyes narrowed when she got no response, she flung Trucy up onto the bed first and then climbed up herself. She stood upright for a while with her arms crossed. Why wouldn't he wake up she wondered. She began to bounce a little, pushing her feet into the mattress then allowing it to spring her back up. Lizzie did that over and over again gradually getting harder and harder.

"Stop it".

Lizzie instantly froze when she heard the man speak for the first time, her face went from a open mouthed shocked expression to a big wide smile. She began to bounce again to get his attention once more.

"Amelia I said stop it". Lucien opened his eyes and stared at Lizzie who was now stood still, looking down at him with a confused face, head tilting to the side.

"My name isn't Amelia sir". She corrected rather coldly, put off at him not knowing her real name. She none the less sat down and grabbed Trucy, hugging the floppy doll to her chest so hard the head bent awkwardly making it looked broken. Lucien didn't say anything but Lizzie could read his face, he had that same look Daddy got when he woke up after a long night drinking with his friends. What was it mummy called it? Hung Over?

"Are you feeling any better Roof-Man"? Her loud intake of breath made it obvious she had become bored of the silence and was expecting to be humoured.

"Roof-Man"? Was a confused response.

She let out another breath of annoyance this time at him repeating her, now she knew how Mummy felt when her and Daddy argued.

"It's what I called you, because you hit a roof yesterday". A slow nod followed by Trucy's head becoming even more crushed as Lizzie tightened her grip. Lucien closed his eyes again and managed to raise his hands to his face, he began to rub the bridge of his nose, trying to wake up properly, he felt himself being watched like a hawk as he sat up in the bed, grimacing a little at the slight pain in his chest. He turned his gaze onto Lizzie, eyebrows raised.

"I hit a roof huh? Well that explains why my back hurts". As if on cue he cracked the part in question and then rolled his head from size to side, another crack resulting in an 'ew' from Lizzie who suddenly threw Trucy at Lucien with force. The soft doll hit him square in the face and then rolled downwards landing onto his lap, plush legs folding over one another, the Balverines soft fluffy head lolled upwards in a possessed sort of way. It was by far the most sinister children's toy Lucien had ever seen.

"She likes you". Lucien rolled his eyes towards the girl who was inching closer every now and then, almost like she was trying to get close to a cat without scaring it. Her child-like chubby hand patted Trucy the Balverine on the head before picking her back up and making her stand.

"_So, what's the name sailor"? _The Balverine was rocked backwards and forwards to make it seem as if it were talking, and Lucien couldn't help but laugh at the rather fake Irish accent Lizzie used when making Trucy's voice.

"I am-". He stopped mid sentence, not very subtle but he didn't know what to say. He couldn't very well say his name was Lucien, that alone would raise suspicion and when put together with his appearance they were bound to figure it out. Maybe a fake name would suffice, although sooner or later he might slip up and not respond. Amnesia was the next option, she said he'd hit the roof, what was the say he didn't smack his head as well. Yes that would have to do for now.

"I don't know young lady, I don't seem to be able to recall much". To seal the deal he raised a hand to his injured head and tapped it.

"Roof-Man it is then, or maybe Bill, I like the name Bill". Lizzie yanked Trucy backwards and dangled her in mid air letting the toy sway from side to side, obviously growing bored.

"My name more certainly isn't Bill". Lucien snapped, who on the other hand despised such a generic name, Bill, only common children born of parents with no imagination named there child Bill, it was nearly as bad as Bob. _Bob?_ The last name rang a bell for some reason, old acquaintance, didn't he have a Spire guard who registered his name as Bob? Oh well it didn't matter, all that mattered was he wasn't going to walk around with this little girl calling him Bill.

"If you don't know what your name is how can you know what it isn't"? That certainly shut Lucien up, he stared at Lizzie, dumb founded at the fact he'd just been put in his place by a kid not even ten years old. Shit, this was bad.

"Roof-Man it is then". He was defeated, utterly defeated by the little Machiavellian.

The duo nearly leapt out of their skin when the door to the room swung up with such ferocity it smacked the inside wall, causing a chain reaction of things falling off the shelves and onto the floor. Diane stood with a crazed look on her face, a steaming frying pan clutched in her left hand held menacingly up in the air like she was ready to attack the intruder with it. Lucien sat there, still as he could be, not even breathing.

"MUMMY HE'S OK"! Lizzie yelled and leapt off the bed running to Diane and hugging her around the knees, calming her instantly. The woman let her hand dropped and quickly hid the frying pan behind her back, laughing it off.

"I can see that Lizzie, now why don't you go have breakfast, it's getting cold". The prospect of breakfast made the girl charge from the room and straight into the kitchen without another word. She even forgot her beloved Trucy, now lazing by Lucien's side. The man in question was still trying to breath properly, his hands idly clutching at the cover in front of him, bringing it upwards to his chest. Diane walked forwards and sat down on the chair, she smiled brightly.

"I'm gad to see you are okay, from what I hear you had quite a fall, and from what I see quite a battle before hand". She bent her arm out for a second but brought it back when Lucien nudged away, respecting the fact he may be uncomfortable and confused. Diane cleared he throat, looking around the room trying to think of something to say.

"Would you like a drink, tea, coffee, water". Another bright smile on Diane's behalf left Lucien feeling rather unnerved, it was clear she didn't know who he was else he would be in prison right now, but the look she was giving him it was almost warm and welcoming. Something he wasn't used to and had long forgotten.

"Tea would be nice thank you". He reverted his face downwards to avoid eye contact, without thinking he took a hold of Lizzie's doll and began to toy with it. The woman in front of him just nodded and stood up, brushing her white piny down and tightening her hair scrunchy before making her way back into the kitchen to make said tea.

As she left Lucien relaxed a little, he dropped the doll, he began to try and calm himself. _What do I do? _He was panicked, he couldn't stay here for long, where ever he was. The clothes the kid and the woman were wearing suggested they were a working family, farmers, fishermen maybe, which mean he was in a village most assuredly. The fact they didn't recognise him also meant it would have to have been a small place, maybe Blueward, Rivernt, those were the two likeliest options. Either way he couldn't hang around for too long, guards always patrolled the near by villages and he highly doubted everyone was as world naïve as these people. He'd wait another day and then leave tonight, Lucien had no clue where he'd run to but anywhere was better than a populated village.

The sound of water boiling drew his attention, and when followed by the laughter of the girl from earlier Lucien caught himself smiling slightly, it was uncanny, her resemblance to his little Amelia. They were even alike in mind, adventurous and just looking for trouble. Trucy's button eyes bore into him as it was once against lifted.

"A doll should never be as creepy as you Trucy". He huffed out a small hum of a laugh, placing it back down gently, head propped up neatly this time.

He leant back into the bed, the oak ceiling looming down on him, the ambience of a wife and child in the other room nostalgic, and saddening.

**

* * *

**

(The previous night)

The carriage pulled up slowly, the horses head rocking backwards at the tightening of the reins, the clopping of horseshoes against cobbled pathway coming to a halt.

"This is your stop you two". The drive yelled in thick London accent. Sliding off the front of the carriage and tipping his hat as the door opened he tried not to laugh as the two males exited, averted gaze the give away to the argument they had just had and had been having the entire 3 hours journey.

"Take your stuff and leave Reaver". Garth's monotone voice spoke more emotion than he intended, he grabbed his own satchel and threw it over his shoulder, movements tired and agitated. He dug his hand into his pocket and brought out the gold, paying the drive and thanking him in the process. The Driver nodded and got back on his carriage, he snapped the reins and road away quickly heading back to Bowerstone.

"Come now Garth, don't be that way". Reaver sauntered over, hands raised delicately in the air as he tried to make an non-threatening posture. As he got close to the Will user he let one drop, the other snaking around Garth's shoulder trying to bring him into a sort of side hug.

"You can't say we haven't bonded over these passed few weeks". His sentence was bit short when Garth pulled away, the fingers on his left hand now dancing with small lightning bolts. It was of course only a threat but Reaver was no idiot and got the picture, and backed off quickly.

"Oh come now, surely one more night together wont break the ice". He could have happy set fire to Reaver right now, but he was not a violent man and kept his cool.

"I assure you, one night with me is all you'd need to loosen up a bit". Even for Reaver's standards his statement was perverse, made even more skin crawling by the dirty giggle that followed.

"Reaver, as I have told you, I am heading back to Brightwood in the morning and your presence is not necessary nor is it desired". The smaller man walked through the gateway in the low fence and up the main path that lead into Rivernt.

"You can be very cruel sometimes Garth". The closeness of the voice suggested that the gun slinger was still following him, like he had through out all of Samarkand , he wasn't sure whether the man didn't get the hint or was just doing it because he knew he irritated the Will user, Garth would bet all his money on the latter. The rest of the walk into the village centre was refreshingly silent only broken occasionally when Reaver made obnoxious 'ohhhh and ahh' noises, likely not impressed by the small farming town. As he got up to the tavern named 'The Black Sheep', no doubt for comic purposes, Garth turned to Reaver once more to clarify the situation.

"We are only coming in here to get information am I clear, you may have one drink but no more, I do not desire a repeat of your actions in the last tavern we were in". Reaver's mouth twitched into a wicked Cheshire grin as his mind went back to a few days earlier. He wasn't sure why Garth had been such a kill joy, he'd had the time of his life chatting with the two hookers and downing pint after pint of good old beer. The dancing after his twelfth pint had been the highlight of the evening, especially when he fell off the table and practically body slammed Garth into an overweight prostitute, he'd personally have loved to be sandwiched between her buxom chest. And then, when he'd gotten into a fight with that ugly, and obviously lesbian, bartender he had felt rather special when Garth came to his rescue, it was only after the two were dragged outside by the bouncer he realised they had just been barred for life.

"I promise nothing". Reaver looked half-man snickering to himself, Garth rolled his eyes and mentally slapped himself in the face, he walked in the tavern none the less and took a seat. Reaver collapsed down beside him and grabbed the menu.

"Well slap my ass and call me Nancy, they do cocktails". Reaver yelled loudly, Garth just let himself fall forwards and head butt the counter.

He should have just abandoned Reaver in Samarkand when he had the chance.

* * *

Oh Reaver you do bring out the worst in me!

As always please review, compliment, crit, but be nice, I'm so very very breakable. ;)

Reviews actually do make me work faster, I feel inclinded to not let anyone down.


	3. Chapter Three Scarred

**Authors Note: **Thank you for all the hits and reviews, especially you my little dedicated reviewer! I go back and read them over and over again, they really inspire me to work harder and get off my lazy butt to write this story.

I do have a question though to all my readers, would you prefer smaller chapters but more frequent updates _(smaller chapters being say 3000)_, or wait for longer more detailed chapters _(longer chapters containing 5000 words and beyond)_?

Please let me know as of the moment I am staying between the two!

Also, this chapter is **M** rated for graphic gore and swearing. Don't read if that sort of stuff makes you cringe because I'm not going to comfort you if you get traumatised. X3

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, it took me a bar of chocolate and at least 4 cups of tea to get through –** Temp**

* * *

**Chapter Three – Scarred**

The sleep was nauseous, and while Lucien was aware it was not a deep sleep he was unable to shake his body awake and get rid of the sensation. His mind felt like it had moulded itself into a ball and was now rolling around his skull, sliding up and down the sides, rolling and churning his every thought into an uncontrollable mess. He was tangled up and couldn't get free. In the midst of the chaos he was hit by a sense of deja vu as a memory he had long forgotten came back to him, smacking him in the face in a way only an unwanted recollection of passed events could, both traumatic and haunting in its being. He didn't want to remember this, he didn't want to think about this, why couldn't it just disappear or crawl back to whatever dark corner of his mind it had been lurking in for the passed 20 years? Lucien battled the memory, first he tried to focus on the pain his body was in but was disappointed when he found it had all but soothed to a dull throb. Next he tried to see if he was hungry or thirsty, but yet again came back empty handed. It was coming, he could feel it dawning just on the horizon about to play out like some sort of theatrical performance. He swallowed hard and winced his shut eyes tighter together, bracing himself for the heart ache to follow.

* * *

_(20 years earlier during the construction of the Spire) _

"_It's perfect wouldn't you agree Garth"? At the mention of his name Garth had enough time to look up and watch the back of Lucien's head disappear as he rounded a corner, black hair bouncing a little in rhythm with his excited quick steps. Garth followed slowly, his one good eye flicking from left to right taking in the sight of the Spire, it was the first time either of them had seen a full constructed level of the building and while Lucien seemed ready to pop open a bottle of champagne he himself felt a little bit uneasy, especially when he caught sight of the Spire workers a level above them working their fingers to the bone. The black walls were cold and not at all welcoming, and though Garth had hardly expected such a contraption as the Spire to be warm and fuzzy he didn't think it would be so dark and cruel. What had Lucien got himself into? No what had Lucien got 'them' into?_

"_Garth come on, chop chop"? Lucien's voice yelled from somewhere, high-pitched and laced with an eagerness that reminded him of a child in a sweet shop. The Will user paced quickly after him, steps heavy in the eerie quietness._

"_This is amazing". Again with the tone._

"_Garth you just have to come see this". He sighed heavily and walked briskly towards the now bent over black haired man, on his knees with his hands pressed against a part of the surrounding wall. Small shards protruded outwards, their ends sharp and just daring Garth to get closer, he wondered how Lucien ignored them haloing around his body whilst he pressed and tapped at the wall._

"_Put your hands here". Lucien reached out and took a hold of Garth's wrist forcing it downwards, the man in questioned gasped a little has he was man handled onto the ground and forced to touch the wall. He rolled his eyes a little and gave the Lord an expression which suggested he wasn't too impressed with being thrown around like an adult humouring their kid. He was about to protest and pull his hands back when he caught wind of what Lucien had been so eccentric about, so much so he pressed his free hand down as well to get a better grip.  
_

"_My word". Was all he could muster out as he felt the thumping that now vibrated throughout his body, travelling from the Spire and into his fingers. It went on and on at a constant rate making the smaller man tingle with each '**badumf'**. This wasn't right, it didn't feel good at all, Garth was ready to turn and run at this point had he not caught sight of his 'friends' face. The younger man's eyes were wide and penetrating, fixed to the building, his mouth hung open in awe struck manner before twisting into a mad toothy grin. His eyes. Garth thought. Were uncomfortable to look into._

"_It's breathing". Now if that statement alone wasn't enough to unnerve Garth it was the low and almost shaky tone in which it was said followed by the mad glint in the guy's eye which suggested he truly believed it. Needless to say Garth felt no embarrassment as he shifted an extra few inches away from Lucien. He knew of the history of the Fairfax family. You could only hide so much from the world as there were always people willing to talk and divulge ones want for information. Garth never got into a partnership with someone without first knowing them as a person, it wasn't just common sense to be aware of your companion for polite purposes but also to be aware of any possible dangers that might arise. And through out all of the documents Garth had spent countless hours researching one sentence always sprung to mind about their family history. 'Mentally unstable'. Now Garth was not the sort of man to judge people on how their relatives had or did behave, he believed the apple did more than often fall very far from the tree and it was unfair to have certain expectations before getting to know someone. However after learning of Lucien's grandmother losing her mind and being locked away and then of Lucien's own tragic past it was only human to be a little wary if not completely worried. Elle, the man's sister had died when he was nought but a boy, and then followed by the death of Helena and Amelia, his lovely wife and daughter, any sane man would succumb to some sort of downfall. So where would a man unstable to begin with be right now?_

"_'cuse me sir but we've got a bit of a situation". _

_Garth could have kissed the Spire guard for breaking the silence and drawing Lucien's attention away from it's current obsession. It gave him a reason to stand up and walk away leaving now a rather suitable distance between the two._

"_What is it"? He didn't seem impressed at all at being so rudely interrupted and the finger on his left hand twitched and flicked as if ready to grab the guard and throttle the next sentence out of him._

_  
"We're missing a worker, Johnson, 'e turned up for work but 'ain't been seen since lunch M'lord". The man's Brumie accent was entertaining and hard to gather at points, but Garth doubted Lucien hadn't become accustomed to dealing with such. He watched as the Lord nodded, nibbling his thumb nail in contemplation. A missing worker while seemingly nothing big was almost catastrophic in Lucien's eyes, a single pair of hands not working would account for a longer time wasted building and a longer time spent waiting. And Lucien hated to wait longer than he should._

"_Well there are only so many places he can be so gather some other guards and go find him". Garth thought for a second that the man might cry after being dealt such a harsh blow from his boss, but he bowed respectfully and then saluted, turning clumsily on his large booted feet before trudging off to carry out his Lords command. The poor guard might have made it to the door if a scream from above didn't distract him, he turned his thick head upwards and stared dumbly as a figure began to come into sight, descending as if in slow motion to the ground, though the slowness didn't last long. In all but an instant there was a sickening crack sound followed by a bursting noise and then a strange sloshing. The man had hit the ground head first. His head caved in like a water melon, the skull cracking inwards, the face con caving simultaneously and pressing into the neck that would soon be placed between the bodies shoulder blades. Red blood exploded outwards in a manner that none of the watchers had eve seen before, the liquid splattered outwards and slapped onto the ground falling across Lucien s face who had the unluckiness of being only two foot or so from the sight. The body fell to the side and flopped limply, any trace of it ever have a head now hidden beneath a mass of mangled flesh and gore. _

_And then there was silence._

_Garth couldn't tear his eyes away, morbid curiosity forcing him to just stare at the body in front of them. He gagged a little when he saw some of the remains of the head just by his foot, brain matter curdled on the floor mixed in with blood and shards of skull. The guard Lucien had been addressing previously had clamped a hand over his mouth and run inside the Spire no doubt to empty his lunch on the floor. He felt the presence of onlookers above them, workers had stopped and were now glaring down at the body, a mixture of devastation, confusion and down right disgust evident on their faces. Garth quickly turned to look at Lucien whose proximity to the body was alarming, _

_  
"Lucien"?Not even at the mention of his name did he move, he stood still as a statue with his head tilted downwards, even by staring at him from the back Garth could tell his gaze was on the corpse. Was he in shock? He didn't seem to budge as Garth walked closer and raised a heavily will-lined hand, intending to place it reassuringly on his shoulder._

"_Lucien"? _

_A second scream threw him off guard and cut him off near the end of speaking. He fell back as Lucien threw himself forwards, still screaming, and grabbing the mangled body by the deformed arms. He ripped it towards him with such force another bout of blood and what could on be an organ spilled out of the neck cavity and onto the floor covering some of Lucien's leg in the process. The crazed man ripped and hugged at the body for a good while before Garth hooked his arms under Lucien's own and yanked him backwards. He thrashed madly, fingers like claws now reaching forwards and trying to grip at the dead Spire worker, legs stomping backwards merciless in an attempt to hit Garth and make him let go._

"_HELENA". He screamed over and over again, his movements becoming wilder and wilder with each yell of the name. Garth was struggling to keep a hold and winced as he was whacked and hit._

"_Lucien calm yourself, Lucien, Lucien, that isn't Helena that isn't your wife". Nothing seemed to be working and the audience of fearful workers and guards weren't helping matters._

"_LET ME GO". A bite this time, Lord Lucien had just bitten him on the wrist so hard blood now trickled a little staining the fabric of his sleeve. This was just about as much as he was willing to put up with, in one swift movement he sent a coarse of electricity through the younger man making his body seizure for a second and then fall limp, it wasn't enough to hurt him in the long run, just enough to subdue him. Garth hauled the man over his shoulder and quickly vacated the area, turning into the stairway and heading upwards to the study. He ignored any voices or looks he got along the way and focused on getting somewhere secure. As he entered the large study he slammed and locked the door before dropping his partners body onto the floor, possibly a little rougher than he intended but it wasn't really a time to be worrying about such things. Garth paced the room for a small moment before turning and bending down towards the now seemingly unconscious body of his friend._

"_Lucien". Garth spoke his name in a low and calm manner, not daring to speak any louder for fear of sending the man into another fit. He pressed a hand down on his shoulder lightly and rolled him over only to be smacked away the instant their eyes made contact. Lucien punched a second time at the air that now swam between the two and crawled backwards in a twitching manner, movements inconsistent and rapidly becoming tenser and tenser. As the crazed man's back hit the wall his expression went from fear to down right terrified. His skin was as white as a ghosts and his eyes looked almost clouded over as he stared through Garth, not seeing his friend in front of him any more and instead acting as if he was being faced with some terrifying creature._

"_Go away". His words were a whisper and came out stuttered, so much Garth couldn't even figure out what he said, but the look on his face was enough._

"_Lucien"? He attempted to make his tone tender and soft but it came out a little shaky._

"_Go away". He caught what the dark haired man said this time but didn't respect the request, he wasn't going to leave someone in such a state. He was worried about his partner and, so instead of leaving, walked forwards in a controlled and docile manner, hands held out with their palms facing him, a sign he wasn't hiding anything and hopefully convincing Lucien he didn't intend to harm him either. As he got close enough to get a good look at the Lords face he knelt down so they were at the same level, looming above him really didn't seem like it would have helped. Garth reached out a hand and held it open, fingers bending a little, a gesture for Lucien to take it if he so wished, but he wasn't surprised when the man didn't oblige. _

"_Lucien". A third try proved to be as pointless as the first lot when he was shoved backwards._

"_GET THE FUCK OUT". Such words seemed foreign coming from the man's mouth as did the yelling accompanied by it, Lucien had never been a crass man or a man for raising his voice so Garth took the warning and backed off enough to be out of reaching distance before dropping his defences. He then proceeded to walk backwards even further and only stopped when the top of his legs hit the desk, he leant on it, eyes never leaving Lucien. He wasn't sure how long they both sat there, after a while Lucien went from violent, to sobbing to then catatonic. When he got into his third phase Garth plucked up the courage to move back over and sweep the Lord up off the floor, he then placed him on the sofa situated near the end of the room. Everything after that was a blur, vague, almost like they had both dreamt it. _

_Lucien never spoke about what had happened, and Garth never pursed it ._

_He never wanted to._

* * *

(Present time)

Lucien's breathing got caught in his throat and chocked him violently from his sleep, he pushed upwards and clamped a hand down on his neck before coughing and trying to regain control of his breathing. The room around him faded in and out, objects shimmering like he was staring at the reflection of water, ripples moving through out the air distorting all manner of things that got caught in its path. Cracks and lines on the walls became faces, mouths grinning and melting, the covers of the bed clung around his legs like snakes trapping him down and dragging him. He thrashed and threw himself off the bed to get free, panicking when he still felt the material, though innocently still laying limply on his shoulders, cling to his body unwilling to let go. As he managed to stand he stumbled oddly for a few steps before falling into the door and ripping it open, the creek nothing but insane laughter in his ears. He had to get out, something was going to kill him. The hallway was dim and would have been dark if the light from the lounge area hadn't crept through the open door, he headed towards it quickly and darted through, the feeling of a breeze indicating where he should turn to next to escape.

"Are you all right"? Diane had heard the crashing and had fled from the kitchen at such a speed she hadn't even had time to put down the plate she had been washing. It dripped on the floor, foam soaking her gloved hand. She caught sight of Lucien now tripping out the front door and onto the hard stones of their pathway, she instinctively dropped the plate and headed after him.

"Please wait". She stopped only to slip on her sandals and then stepped over the doorstep, but he was gone. She noticed a small pool of blood on the floor which made her gut wrench, he must had opened his wound when he fell.

"Damn it". Diane curses and closed the door, Lizzie was no doubt playing in the back fields but she didn't have time to tell her daughter where she was going. Hitching up her ankle length dress and flicking her head to the side to send some loose strands of hair behind her shoulder she ran off down the path and through their front gate, following the trail of blood.

If one wished to bottle the absolute look of a man about to commit murder Garth would be a top candidate, he wasn't a violent man, heck he was no where near even a quick tempered man. But Reaver just seemed to have the magic touch that destroyed everything in it's path. He could put up with the slander and obnoxious comments, he could just about stand the constant sexual stories and little escapade he felt necessary to born Garth with constantly. What he had had enough of was that fact people were beginning to group them together and assume that since he kept such company he himself was much to Reaver's level. It didn't matter if he sat their quietly, when it came to judging time it was never 'You get out of my pub before I rip that stupid face of yours off', it was always 'Both of you'. He hated being seen in such a negative light and was just about at the point where Reaver was minutes from signing his own death warrant. Luckily he had managed to escape the flamboyant Pirates grasps for an hour of two and it was by far the most amazing couple of hours of his life. He walked through the small streets of the quint little village, they were having a market on today and the minute he spotted the fresh fruit stall every problem in the world seemed suddenly trivial. He smiled and sighed heavily as he picked out a ruby red fresh apple, he paid the man and continued on walking towards some lush grassy fields. The sun was warm and stroked at his tan face, the moment was perfect and he found himself getting caught up in it. He took a small bite out of the apple and savoured the sweetness of it, with a light throw he chucked it up in the air playfully and then took a second bite. He just about tasted the apple juice before the wind, and his mouthful where blown out of him by something smashing hard into his chest. He and the 'something' both fell backwards with a load thump and then a crash, his precious apple rolling harshly away from him picking up dirt as it went. Garth chocked a little on the remains of the fruit and whipped his mouth with his sleeve, he gritted his teeth and slowly shook his head to regain composure. He snapped his eyes up, a somewhat pissed off expression on his face mixed with his usual melancholy.

"You should be more careful". He spoke to the bent over figure struggling for breath, he watched as hands clawed at the ground before quickly darting up and clutching at his face that was hidden behind a tangled mess of stark white hair.

"My word are you all right"? Garth quickly leant forwards and tried to grab a hold of the distressed man, he saw the blood stains on the plain grey t-shirt he was clad and was instantly suspicious that he had been attacked. He brought him forwards and took a look at his face.

His blood went cold and he quickly dropped his hold on the figure and doubled over backwards.

"Lucien"? This couldn't be happening, he was dead, he saw it himself, he saw Sparrow end that tyrants life once and for all. And yet here he was right in front of him, his piercing blue eyes now fixed on the frozen Will user.

"Garth"!

* * *

**_Dun dun duuuuuuuuun! Cliff Hanger._**

As always my little fishies please review, anything to help really. I love getting comments it really brightens my day, I could just read them forever. Also I apologise for the shortness of this chapter, I did intend it to be a little longer but I have been fairly unwell lately.

Also Lucien was having a panic attack, I hope I described the anxiety well, he does seem the type to suffer from them, among other things.


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